How I died on the first day of school

A rational person would think that the first day back in school with the whole faculty would be a joyous day. One in which I would tell them all about my I.B. training, my trip to Rome where I came face-to-face with my educational nemesis on the bridge from Castel S'Angelo. By the way I resisted the urge to scream and dive into the Tiber, but rather stared him down coolly and continued on my way with the knowledge that while I am literally following his career path at East I am doing so with a certain panache. I also kept a certain murderous feeling at bay and gnashed my teeth while wheelding a knife in my mind. But I digress...
Instead I was treated to "death by powerpoint". Powerpoint is the downfall of educators and it is something that should be only used sparingly and by the best of us. This presenter, who was paid an ungodly sum to stand in front of a group of educators and prattle on about something he got out of a book in the educational section of Barnes and Noble, was once demoralized by some unholy 7th grade teacher who gave him an "F" on a paper. He has lived under the shadow of this woman for I don't know how many years and has figured out a way to exact his revenge. He travels the country and tells people who teach for a living how to do it better and without wounding the pride of a single hormonal student. He explains in slide after slide how we are all living under an outmoded way of thinking, nevermind that its gotten us in "Newsweek" and the top scores in the state...no no no. We are still giving Fs and we are still teaching and potentially wounding pride. He did this for 5 hours and he had 50 slides. I went from giggling, to serious, to comatose in 5 minutes flat.
He had stats (none of them his own), he had graphs (again, not his own but at least he cited them) and he had three stories about that bitch of a 7th grade teacher. He even had a video that nicely illustrated how we had unwittingly been contributing to the criminal population this entire time with our teaching methods. Teachers are the reason for prison population, especially teachers that fail students. But it's ok, but we know now and tomorrow we'll stop it. Maybe it we didn't have summer vacations we'd stop our evil machinations!
I walked out of the ghostly light of the cafeteria and could feel my blood rushing back to the brain and I swear, if I stood still, could have heard the neurons firing again. I could sense tiny little electrical impulses shoot across my cranium and revive my aching head. My eyeballs were covered in some kind of film and the sun seared it off, thank god. I could move my arms and my legs without smacking into a cafeteria table or coworker. I had been in a rigid position to avoid doing this and I rejoiced at being able to dash out of there.
My first thought was how to find this damn 7th grade teacher and make her apologize to this fractured man or at least make her pay for therapy...